Can We Keep Them?
by Echoing Fantasy
Summary: It all started the night Giotto realized he had a son. Then, one by one the Guardians found themselves saddled with their own unfortunate offspring. But that was not the end of it. There was still one more piece of the puzzle that needed their attention. Unfortunately for all involved, only the children know what that piece is, and they have no intentions of telling.


_Can We Keep Them?_

**AN: **This is the rewritten version of _Can We Keep Them _from my original account. Honestly after a certain point updating that story became a chore, so I decided to redo and reupload it, since it was so popular. I fleshed out a lot of things I didn't touch before, and tried to fill in some of the plot holes so people would stop falling in them. ;) I hope you guys enjoy the new version.

* * *

**Part One**

_King & Lionheart_

**Chapter One: **Introduction

* * *

On a dark and stormy day, a lowborn village woman gave birth to a child with orange eyes and fire on his head.

"Push!"

Placed on a grouping of thin blankets and rags on the dirt floor, a birthing woman and her husband hovering over her, the brunette woman screamed and pushed, nails clawing beneath her. It was sheer agony – everything dark and disturbing she'd heard about childbirth come to life. She cried as she pushed, wishing and begging for some higher power to kill her just to make the pain stop. She cursed everything in existence, starting with herself and ending with her attraction to the tall, mysterious blond man that had come through their humble abode months prior.

"Push!"

"I can't!" she sobbed breathily, muscles watery and trembling in the other woman's claw-like hands. The old birthing woman had seen many a baby come into the world, but she had never had one take so long before, or fight so hard to stay inside his mother's womb. Not even the hardiest and strongest of men had taken so long coming out. The elder pursed her lips, her one good eye fixing itself on the brunette girl that was crying herself to an early death.

"Ya don't got a choice, girl! Either you push and this baby comes out, or ya both die!"

But the girl would not be swayed.

"I don't care! Let it die, for all I care! I shouldn't even have it in the first place!"

"Little late for that 'pinion there, hun," the other muttered, rolling her good eye heavenwards. It wasn't uncommon for girls to have children this young around here, but most understood what was expected of them and bore the pain well. Clearly this girl didn't care for what was expected of her, so long as the thing inside her came out. "Fine, y'don't want ta come along quiet-like? A'll fix that." And without so much as a warning, she pushed her hand inside the other woman, causing an unholy screech to rent the air, and began tugging the baby out slowly but surely. Such a practice was rarely used simply because of how dangerous it was, but at this point such warnings were redundant.

The woman screamed and clawed and yowled like her entire body was being pulled apart, and her husband (the one she'd married, not the one she'd messed around with) wrung his hands and hovered nearby, uncertain of what to do. The elder woman grimly kept at her work, no matter how hard the one beneath her writhed. The baby's head finally slipped through, tufts of hair slicked with body fluid the first warning of its arrival. Unlike most, it did not enter the world howling at the top of his lungs (not that it mattered much; the mother was doing enough of that for the both of them) and for one second the nurse honestly thought the mother had killed it. But then it began wriggling, eager to get out of her grasp, the old woman laughed and kept pulling.

By the time it was all over, the mother was dead. There was simply no avoiding it, and under different circumstances the old birthing woman supposed she would have felt guilty, especially watching how desperately the husband tried to wake her up. But instead, she felt only pity for the child in her arms, which still had yet to make a sound. With a heavy sigh, she soaked the cloth beside her in the small bowl of water and began to clean the child off. As she did so, she began to see familiar features come out. The heart-shaped face, the stubborn bottom lip, the determined set of the chin and the almost regal turn of the eyes; all the proof anyone needed that this was Giotto's child. But even with all those dominant characteristics, she could still see some of the mother in the boy as well. The shape of the face was softened around the edges, and the chin was not quite so sharp. The hair was also brown instead of blond, and the eyes were brown instead of blue. His skin was also a shade darker. All in all, a rather cute boy that would eventually become as sleek as his father in terms of appearance.

That being said, it would be wise to get him out of the village before the husband sitting motionless beside his dead wife came to and decided to slay the boy out of revenge. Bad enough every man around here already wanted the father's head on a pike. Tucking the boy up against her and wrapping the discarded cloak around them to keep him hidden, the old woman stood and left the hut, keeping her head low and her hood up as she passed by the normal band of everyday movers and shakers. She left the village without much distraction, and was soon on the main road, the noise of her home far behind.

The main road eventually branched off onto several different paths. She took the one she knew the best, the one no one else knew. Her brother would be waiting, she knew, because he was just as sharp as she was when it came to matters like these – not to mention he had pretty much trained Giotto himself. And sure enough, about two thirds to the Vongola residence, a cloaked figure stepped out from behind a tree and lowered his hood. The hunched back of her brother greeted her. "Talbot."

"Mayu, a pleasure to see you again, sister. I take it things went well?"

"Not so well, I'm afraid. Giotto's boy put his mother in the ground."

Talbot sighed, although it wasn't as heavy as it could have been. "Small sacrifices, as we all are. I take it you still have the babe?"

"Right here." The boy was wide awake now, curiously looking around him and staring at the world with interested eyes. Upon seeing Talbot, his chubby little arms came out and he made an attempt to grab at the old man. Mayu laughed. "Look at that! He wants to make friends."

Talbot shuffled in place, a slight turn to his lip the only sign of his discomfort. "Children often do." Then he sighed again, this time wearily. "I don't suppose I can get you to come to the Vongola and hand-deliver him to Giotto for me, can I?"

Mayu shook her head, smile fading a little. "No. I must get back to the village and deal with the Undertaker, as well as the father. No doubt he'll want to take his group out here to start something with Giotto once he recovers."

Talbot sneered just a little. "The need for revenge is idiotic at this point. If he was so dead set on that, he should have done it months ago, while the wife was still pregnant."

"Still, this birth will ruffle his feathers. I need to placate the village before I do anything else. I'll visit you again once all this cools off." And so saying, she stepped forward. Talbot did the same, sticking his cane into the ground and carefully maneuvering the baby from his sister to his own arms, murmuring to the boy when he made a tiny sound of discomfort. "Aye, that's a good boy. Just like that, little 'un. Won't be long now."

Mayu snickered a little. "And you say you aren't good with children."

"This one may be the exception, so don't get getting any ideas. I'm not a wet nurse."

"I know." The old woman turned and began heading back the way she came, calling over her shoulder, "Tell Giotto the next time I see him I'm going to beat him black and blue for starting all this trouble!"

"Not if I get to him first!" Talbot called back.

His sister didn't reply, her laughter his sole comfort as he left the pathway and turned, going back into Vongola territory, Giotto's baby tucked close.

* * *

The Vongola manor was one large, sprawling maze of rich, tasteful finery and equally rich taste_less _finery (mostly related to Daemon Spade or Alaude in some way). Talbot scowled as he hobbled up the stairway to the balcony doors in the back, unwilling to go through the front door with a baby in his arms. The staff was very active this time of day, as Giotto was cooped up in his office handling business agreements and trying not to lose his temper with some of the more volatile or rough Families. Not that Talbot could blame him there entirely, but Giotto had never really had the tact needed to handle those sorts. No, unless it was a dire emergency, the blond rarely raised his voice (or hand) and instead relied on his charisma to do the talking. Which would have been fine, if every Family except the Vongola was made up of nothing but _women. _

As it currently stood, the Vongola were on the brink of three small wars, two broken alliances and had at least one mafia wife that wanted Giotto's blood. Sometimes Talbot wanted nothing more than to bring back the days when his cane regularly found the back of Giotto's head or backside in a painful reprimand, but then he remembered that the idiot had actually gathered quite a few powerful people to his side that wouldn't understand the advisor laying a smackdown on the boss. The last thing Talbot needed right now was a bunch of ninnies running around trying to kill him (not that they could). He had enough things on his plate, thank you very much. Like getting said idiot boss to accept that he now had an hours-old baby boy.

Sighing under his breath and wondering what had made him stay, Talbot closed the door behind him and started across the long checkered hallway, listening intently for any incoming footsteps. The last thing he needed to explain to anyone was what he was doing with a baby.

"Nufufufufu… well now, what have we here? Old man Talbot, sulking in the shadows? How _unsightly._"

The alchemist hissed in an aggravated breath as a thin string of mist appeared from beneath a nearby curtain seconds before the fabric was pushed aside and Giotto's Mist Guardian stepped out, cane tapping against his palm, a grin splitting his face.

He scowled. "You want to talk about _unsightly_ boy; you ought to think about getting yourself a new hair cut. And maybe doing something about that personality of yours. I don't know how Elena can stand you."

Daemon's grin did not falter in the slightest. "Now now Talbot, no need to be rude. I'm just expressing interest in your… mannerisms. After all, normally one enters through the _front _door. Unless you've gotten lost and now think the back is the front?" He took a step forward, and Talbot tucked the child closer. Daemon's eyes snapped to his arm and a curious gleam took over his eyes. "Oh, I see now. You're keeping secrets again, aren't you old man?"

Talbot growled in warning. "I swear upon my own life Spade, if you attempt to touch me or what I'm carrying, Giotto will find himself in dire need of a new Mist Guardian."

The illusionist laughed the sound deceptively light. "Is that a challenge?"

"It is a promise."

The aura between them was potent with the promise of violence now, and Talbot's stance was no longer quite so hunched. The puppies around here all liked to believe themselves better than the old man, but they knew that Talbot could and would quite literally knock them on their collective asses if they tried anything against him. He had been the one to pick them up out of the slums and help them build the Vongola to what it was, after all. Hell, if it hadn't been for him, they never would have even mastered their Flames, burning themselves out before they even got started! But there were always those that tried to challenge authority, and Daemon was one of those few that liked to try it every chance he got. Alaude was the other, but unlike Daemon he respected power when he saw it and would mind his manners so long as Talbot asked nice enough, which he was usually willing to do. Today though, his temper was short and he wasn't willing to give any ground, at least not while he still had a child with him.

Speaking of him, the baby apparently decided now would be a _fantastic _time to make noise and draw attention to himself. Spade's eyes went down, widening a fraction, and Talbot knew it was the only chance he'd get. He swung just as Spade lunged. Cursing when he realized he had only clipped the other on his shoulder, Talbot swung again, this time much more wildly. Daemon reached forward, Talbot fell back. Now the baby was in the illusionist's hands, waving hands and feet around as he giggled and shrieked happily.

Daemon stared at the child as if he'd seen a ghost, and then looked down at Talbot. For one moment, there was no joking demeanor to be found; for once the man was oddly serious, much as he was when entering a hard battle. Then he looked back to the boy again, and something like a sneer worked its way on his face. Talbot felt his tension slipping away. Daemon would not harm this child.

"Oho~ I see, I see. I guess you do still have some "magic" in you after all, old man. Well, I suppose if you've got it, you've got it." His lecherous grin quickly brought Talbot's temper back up. _Forget what I said earlier. I need to smack this idiot. Hard. _"Of course, at your age, it can't be easy to get it u—"

**SMACK!**

"OOH! Was that really necessary?" Daemon rubbed the back of his head where Talbot had hit him, still keeping a careful grip on the child (much to Talbot's relief). "Honestly, if you don't want to talk about it, just say so."

"He's not mine, you little idiot." He took the child back (carefully) and stormed past the Mist Guardian, fuming as he ascended the stairs. The Mist Guardian's voice floated up behind him, making him wish he had the ability to teleport just so he could smack the other man again.

"So you're babysitting then?"

He climbed all the way to the second and then third hallway, all the way up to the north-eastern corner of the house, where Giotto's office was. He should have been out of breath by that point, but years of traversing the globe and getting himself out a danger paid off even now, and he was able to reach the top with only a minimum amount of rest, and a quick sip from the flask he always carried. The baby in his arms was half asleep by the time he rapped on the door, yawning and tucking himself close to Talbot. The elder prayed he'd have time to introduce him to Giotto and hand him over before that happened. "Enter."

Breathing deep, he did so and was greeted to the sight of his pupil with an ear to the phone and pen scribbling over paper rapidly. The blond held up a finger, smiling apologetically. Talbot just huffed and pulled the child in his arms away from his body. The baby made a distressed noise, squirming a bit.

"Stop that now," Talbot muttered, carefully keeping him out of Giotto's line of sight. "You want your father to like you, don't you? Don't be so fussy."

The baby made a noise of solid disagreement, but when Talbot persisted with his stare gave up and curled into a ball, silent again. Talbot sighed through his nose as Giotto hung up the phone. _Remind me again why I chose to stick around?_

"It's good to see you again Talbot. Sorry about that, I've been pretty busy lately-" Giotto started down the long line of pleasantries, but the alchemist was in no mood.

"Enough, Giotto. I don't have time for idle chit chat. I just came here to give something to you, and I intend to do it."

The blond was clearly taken aback by his mentor's clear cut words, but after a moment relaxed again. "Okay then. What did you came to deliver?"

"Before I hand the item in question over, I have a question for you. Do you remember a while back when you went to visit the village on the western side, and you "fell in love" with that beautiful brunette woman who just so happened to be living apart from her husband at the time?"

A familiar expression of smug contentment came across Giotto's face. "Of course I remember Nana. She was a very sweet woman."

"I'm so sure," Talbot muttered, repressing a shiver. Raising his voice, he continued. "As it turns out, my sister works for that village."

"Mayu?"

"Yes."

"Ah, how has she been recently? Plenty of births to give her work?"

Talbot sneered just a little, gleefully ready to burst Giotto's bubble. "As a matter of fact, yes. There was one this morning, when I went out for a walk, that we were talking about. It related to Nana."

Giotto's smile seemed to grow. "She's expecting? How nice! Then I take it she and her husband patched things up?"

Talbot couldn't help it. He burst out laughing, startling the baby he carried, although any complaint he made was blocked out by Talbot's laughter. Giotto stared in bemused confusion, uncertain how to proceed. At last the elder collected himself, and began to spell it out slowly, since Giotto clearly didn't understand, or didn't _want _to understand. "Giotto, Nana is dead. This morning she went into labor, though not with Iemitsu's child. My sister came to tell me that the boy is in fact yours, and if you don't believe me, then here, see him for yourself!" And he uncovered the child, raising him up for Giotto – who had gone very still – to see. The resemblance could not have been clearer. "She said to tell you that she's coming to kick your ass for causing her such trouble, although as it currently stands, I'm more than ready to do it myself!"

Ashen was a good color to describe Giotto's complexion then. The man, who had been laughing just a second ago, was now completely humorless, frozen, staring at the boy in Talbot's hand as if it were the sum of all evil in the world come to steal his soul. Talbot watched his throat bob as he swallowed, and slowly stood up on trembling legs. He looked at Talbot, and then back at the child. When he spoke, his voice shook only slightly.

"This is a joke, r-right Talbot? I can't have a son. It was just one time. Babies don't come from one night stands… right?"

Talbot did slap him then, hard enough to knock him into the desk and shock him. Giotto stared at him in both fear and horror, realization dawning as his former mentor jabbed the point of the cane into the hollow of his throat, bearing down on him to keep him pinned. _"Giotto Ieyasu Vongola, _you are an absolute _fool _if you actually believe that. Do you really believe that I would come here for some cheap trick? To fool and deceive you? That's Spade's job, as I recall, and he does a very good job of it. But right now this is reality, and this _is _your son I'm holding. You need to take responsibility for your actions. His mother is dead, and the husband is out for your blood. Now, you have two choices. You can take this child, raise him properly and be a good father to him, or I can kick your ass from here to kingdom come and back and _then _you can take this child and raise him properly. Now, which would you like to do?"

Giotto stared at him even as he pulled back the head of the cane and gave his student room to breathe. The golden eyes stayed on the boy in his arms, who was staring back with calm interest. Slowly, Giotto picked himself up and leaned back against the desk, not saying a word. Talbot waited, aware that the blond would make no escape attempts. He was too shocked to do anything right now except think, and thinking was the smartest idea at this point.

Hesitantly, Giotto offered up his hands. Talbot nodded approvingly, softening his tone a mite. "Wise choice, boy. Now, do you know how to hold him?"

The hands pulled back just slightly. Giotto's expression gave it away. Once again, Talbot nodded, this time stepping forward and taking his hands one at a time to position them correctly. Only then did he pass the baby over and step back, giving Giotto a chance to meet and see his new child up close. Hopefully the connection would click, just as it did for most new parents. Talbot couldn't stand the idea of Giotto half-assing his only offspring's upraising. If he did try such things, Talbot really _would _kick his ass from here to kingdom come, and then he'd come back and kick the Guardians asses too for letting their boss behave in such a way.

But for now Talbot would watch and hope. Really, that's all anyone could do at this point.

* * *

When Talbot had told him he had a son, Giotto's first reaction had been panic. Despite what he had said, he was actually no idiot. He knew, on some level, just as he had when he and Nana had been pressed against one another back then, that a child _could _have come out of their interactions. But he had been so sure, so cocky, because he was _Vongola Primo, _with the golden luck and the beautiful looks and charisma to charm anyone. He didn't _do _consequences. And yet here he was, the consequences of that night staring at him with big brown eyes that were so like Nana's that it took his breath away. But deep inside the sea of brown he could see twin swirls of gold, very faint. He knew though that those would grow with time, until the gold overtook the brown. His own eyes had been like that, once upon a time.

With the panic gone, fear and curiosity mingled. He had a _son… _what was he supposed to say? To do? He had never handled babies before; heck he hadn't even had a _child _to interact with before. Did he just say hello and start talking? Did he have to let it smell him, get used to him before holding it? Maybe the baby didn't like him already – or maybe it did. What was he supposed to do if it _didn't _like him? The thought of screaming children filled his head, and some part of Giotto cringed. He was a mafia boss, not a father! He couldn't do this!

And yet his hands drew forward, somehow knowing. And then Talbot asked him if he knew how to properly hold the baby, and those hands stopped. _There's a __**proper **__way to hold babies? Oh god, he's not going to test me on this, is he? _Yet even as the panic surged again Talbot was there, just like in the old days, grip sure and firm, guiding him into the correct position. And then the boy was in his arms, and Giotto couldn't _breathe. _He looked down into those eyes, and it felt as if his entire world imploded and reconstructed itself in a nanosecond. His chest hurt like he'd been hit with a sledgehammer. Suddenly nothing made sense. He was no longer afraid of this tiny being; instead he wanted to protect it with a ferocity that rivaled his feelings for G and the others. Neither the paperwork on his desk nor the incoming business calls mattered so long as he held this _tiny, __**unbelievably precious **_creature that was tilting its head and making little noises that made Giotto think it was curious.

Tentatively, he moved one of his fingers around and waited, breathless, as the baby grasped it firmly and examined his hand, pulling his hand closer, demanding. Giotto could only give himself over, unable to say no because this was _his son, _and that realization was now making him oddly breathless and giddy like the highest of drugs could only take him. At the same time he felt choked up, emotional beyond belief. _And here I thought only the women got that way. Guess I was wrong – again._

Talbot was smiling. Well, it was more of a knowing smirk, but Giotto didn't care. He couldn't bring himself to care about what was going on beyond the circle of his arms and the little boy that was now playing with his ring, grasping at the big blue gem and making happy noises. Giotto found his voice then, weak as it was. "D-does… does he have a name yet?"

"Not to my knowledge. Why, got a name in mind?"

He did. Several, in fact, but one stood out. "Tsunayoshi." The name felt right on the tip of his tongue, and the boy actually looked at him when he spoke it. "He is Tsunayoshi."

Tsunayoshi looked up at and laughed, tiny hands clapping together in what he assumed was approval. Talbot smiled, reaching forward to clap Giotto on the shoulder.

"Tsunayoshi Vongola it is, then." He stepped back just as quickly, and pointed downstairs. "I'll tell your Guardians not to disturb you so you can get acquainted." The old man left not long after that, and Giotto moved himself and little Tsunayoshi to the bed, where the baby fell asleep not long after. Giotto on the other hand, stayed awake long into the night, just watching him breathe, and marveling over the sudden turn his life had taken.


End file.
